At the Diner
by FeatheryDream
Summary: They were so young, not yet ready to be adults and yet, so done with their teenage years. They were coworkers, still deciding on what to do with their lives. They didn't know the real world but one thing was sure, they were family.


**1. The one with the new guy**

**OR**

**1. The one in which Blaine enters the Twilight zone but loves it anyway**

The Spotlight Diner was not like any other restaurant in town. Were you to come inside, you would be assured to have the best entertainment while waiting for your order (or even while eating). Randomly bursting into song was perfectly normal, even expected. The staff was known to be young, energetic and talented. They were singers, dancers, actors and writers. They were artists. It was Broadway after all, the place where even a simple waiting job was more than what it appeared to be.

Everybody enjoyed the Spotlight Diner: the customers, the waiters…Well, maybe not the managers. From what Blaine could see during his interview with Gunther, the guy couldn't care less if you could walk on your hands while juggling with your feet, as long as you kept the customers satisfied and the money coming. He didn't even ask the applicant for a demonstration of his singing talents saying that he was already hearing enough with those clowns bellowing all day and all night long, he didn't need them invading his sacred place, thank you very much. Blaine didn't know what to respond to those words. Should he be offended or amused? Sam had warned him that Gunther was weird but he didn't know to what extent.

He would soon find out though as Gunther had decided to hire him after all. This was his first day. Gunther had greeted him with a grunt, practically throwing him his uniform and leaving him alone in the lion's den with so much as a "This is Blaine" on his way out.

Blaine gripped the clothed in his hands while looking around. He didn't know what to do; he just graduated from high school and never had to work in his whole life. This was all new to him. Was he supposed to start working or to wait for someone? The other waiters were all busy with their job, and Blaine wasn't even sure they noticed him.

"Get out of my way, newbie, why are standing here like a gaping fish? God, I swear, Gunther is getting worse at hiring people, do you know what waiting tables entails? Let me clear that up for you, Gelmet Head, you are supposed to take your two little feet to one of those big tables and ask those scary people what they want to eat. Is that clear enough or do I need to draw a picture for you? Or perhaps you would like my help in changing clothes, which I'd be glad to!"

Apparently, Gunther was pretty tamed compared to this apparently lunatic girl who went from being annoyed to checking him out in a matter of five seconds. Blaine was stunned. Were all people in New York like that? Or was it only this diner? Or those two specific people?

"Easy tiger, you don't want the new guy to run away screaming on his first day, do you? You're supposed to be welcoming, not creepy. And do I need to remind you that you're a lesbian?"

The crazy girl rolled her eyes and turned to the African-American woman standing behind the bar.

"Whatever," she said giving one last look at Blaine. "I recognize a hot body when I see one."

And with that being said, she left them alone after sending a wink in Blaine's direction. The young man couldn't help but blush.

"Forget it, she may be hot but she doesn't play for your team." The girl behind the counter warned.

She had a friendly smile which encouraged Blaine to come closer.

"That's good as I play on the same team as well. Sort of."

"Oh, you're gay?"

Blaine nodded while waiting for her reaction. She may be okay with a lesbian but over the years, he realized that people were more accepting on woman homosexuality than men's. Gay couples were women in disguise while lesbian couples were men fantasies. Double standards right here.

But the girls didn't wavered; she kept her smile and continued on:

"Good for you! I thought you may be, your hair and the bowtie were like a big alarm. Why so much gel?"

"You really don't want to see my hair in their natural state", Blaine explained, shrugging his shoulders. "They look awful."

"I'm sure that's not true! What's your name?"

"Blaine. Blaine Anderson."

"Well, Mister Anderson, it's really nice to meet you. I'm Mercedes Jones, you will soon enough hear my name on every radio and television show in the country and the bitch who just screamed at you is Santana. Don't take anything she says personally, that's the way she is. You will get used to it."

Blaine liked Mercedes, she was warm and nice to talk to. He felt himself relax a little while speaking with her.

"Are they all like that? I mean first Gunther, then…"

She burst out of laughing.

"Oh, if you knew! You just entered a den full of mad people. Let's say that we like being theatrical."

Blaine wasn't sure Santana would be the one to send him running away screaming, after all. Mercedes seemed to sense his apprehension and hastened to reassure him.

"Don't worry, we're nice! … Well for the most part", she added with an after-thought. She then clapped her hands to clear her head. "Okay! First things first! Change into your uniform and then I'll show you around and introduce you to a bunch of people."

Blaine looked around him, looking for a door which would suddenly illuminate itself to show him which way to go. His eyes fell upon with "Private" upon on it and he supposed this was the one. Sensing his hesitation, Mercedes walked around the bar, took his arm and brought him to the door.

Once on the other side, the clatter of the dining room quieted. Blaine breathed a sigh of relief and let his muscles unwind.

"Boy, you really are nervous, aren't you?" Mercedes teased.

He gave her a sheepish look, rambling about first jobs and high school.

She put a hand up to stop him. "Wait, wait, wait, I don't understand anything of what you're saying! Speak up! This is your first job? You just graduated from high school?"

Blaine nodded.

"Everything's going to be fine! I graduated last year actually so I'm not much older than you. We are all the same age here. Except for Gunther, of course, because he's old and all that…"

She silently asked him to follow her through the grey corridor.

"Left, kitchen," she showed him a silver door with a porthole. "Right, lounge, at the end, the lockers. You shouldn't get lost. Here, go get changed. You can take whichever locker is not occupied and then come back to me in the dining room."

His new locker was easy to find, in a corner were nobody could see him change. He wasn't at ease yet for strangers to watch him change clothes. He quickly put on his uniform, glanced at his appearance in the mirror before putting away his bag and slamming the door shut.

He had thought he was alone but as he came around in the corner, he found himself face to face with a girl standing only in a bra. The reaction was immediate, he jumped, startled and the girl shrieked while trying to cover her chest with a random piece of clothes. Then, as though realizing what just happened, she put a hand on her mouth and fled the room while putting on a shirt.

Blaine was speechless. What had just happened? Was this some sort of initiation ritual for any new employee? He had arrived twenty minutes ago and had had the strangest experience in his whole life. It was like entering the Twilight Zone. Were these people for real?

He decided he would confront Mercedes as soon as he sees her but when he arrived in the dining room, the girl from the lockers came up to him and dragged him to the bar. She showed him a small board on which was written: _Hi! I'm Rachel!_ She then erased it and wrote: _I'm really sorry about my behavior earlier, it's just that I've lost my voice!_

Blaine was puzzled. The whole city must have heard her ear-splitting scream. He heard a snort and watched Santana walk by.

"If only," she was saying with a roll of her eyes.

Rachel's glare went unnoticed by the dark-haired girl who just went on her business as if nothing was wrong.

"Ah Blaine! There you are! Are you ready?"

Mercedes has just appeared by his side with a big smile on her face. She released an exasperated sigh upon reading Rachel's board.

"Rachel, stop lying. You didn't lose your voice, stop being so melodramatic."

Rachel tucked her board under her armpit, flipped her hair and went back to work.

"So, that was Rachel Berry," Mercedes explained as they went behind the bar. "You're lucky she's not talking right now, otherwise you wouldn't hear the end of it. Boy, that girl can talk!"

"Yeah, how come she doesn't talk?" Blaine asked, watching a grinning Rachel shoving her board in the customers' faces.

"Oh, she got this ritual every time she has a big audition. It's a way for her to 'preserve her voice' ", she made quotations marks with her hands. "Apparently, she had a bad experience in her former high school and doesn't want a similar thing to happen again. So, as her audition is next week, she won't speak until then. Unless she's singing."

"What kind of audition?"

"Oh, she's in NYADA, have you ever heard of it?"

In fact, Blaine had. NYADA was only one of the most prestigious schools in New York and many famous people were known to be NYADA alumni. It was really hard to get in but when you do, your future is bound to be prestigious. Blaine had thought a long time ago about applying to that school but quickly changed his mind: this was simply not his scene. He wanted to write and compose songs. He wanted to release a cd and tour across the country. That's what he wanted.

He knew that only people with real talent and ambition could attend the academy, which must mean that Rachel was a formidable performer. He found himself looking forward to listening to her singing.

"Well," Mercedes continued. "Every year, the school does a musical for which a lot a prestigious people are invited. It's the best way to get noticed by producers. This year, they are doing Chicago."

Blaine loved that musical. He wondered if outsiders could get to watch it, this was simply a must-see.

"But enough about Rachel, she already has enough attention as it is. Let me explain our organization here. We are twelve waiters, thirteen with you now. We must be at least six at all time, eight during the night shifts and on Saturdays. You'll see in the lounge a big board with all our names and our schedules on it. You can add yours and choose when to work. A shift is four hours minimum. About the team, we are all different, you see, it's a wonder we get along really, but we also love each other. We are a family. So it's important that you get along with us, otherwise team work would be difficult. Okay, today, working with us, we have Santana and Rachel, whom you already met, Quinn," She pointed a beautiful blond girl who was clearing tables. "Mike, and Brittany. You'll meet the others on your different shifts. Also," she leaned closer. "About Brittany, don't mind her comments, and never badmouth her if you don't want to face Santana's wrath."

"Are they together?" Blaine asked, observing the blonde girl staring absently at customers eating their meals. Santana was standing next to her, talking and touching her shoulder every once in a while.

Mercedes snorted. "No. But Santana definitely has a crush on her. Don't tell her I said that though."

Blaine spent the next hours with Mercedes, watching her work and learning the ropes of the job. It seemed simple enough until Mercedes told him he was lucky it was a quiet day. If this was considered as being quiet, Blaine was afraid to discover what rush hours were like.

Rachel also sang. She was extraordinarily talented; Blaine had no doubt that she would make it in the business. After her performance, he went to congratulate her to which she responded with a dazzling smile.

Blaine decided that he liked working at Spotlight. Granted, it was only his first day but if you get past the waiters' weirdness, they seemed like great people. Everybody seemed to enjoy themselves.

He met the other waiters, including Brittany who asked him if his hair were real or if he was a Playmobil, which would explain a lot. Santana had cackled at that comment and Blaine felt like he was never going to live that down. Mike was nice enough as was Quinn, if not a little distant.

"BLAINE, BRO! YOU MADE IT!"

Blaine felt himself being swooped in someone's arms and didn't need to see who it was as only one person could greet him in such a way. Sam Evans, ladies and gentlemen.

"Hey Sam, we just saw each other this morning."

"And yet, it has been too long!" Sam told him while releasing him.

"Wait, you two know each other?" Mercedes asked, puzzled.

Sam put an arm around Blaine's shoulders.

"This guy is my roommate and my BFF. We were at Dalton together."

"BFF?" Santana mocked. "What are you? A twelve-year-old girl?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Sam retorted.

"He's like Barbie with his long blond hair." Brittany interjected.

Santana smirked. "Yes, she's right, why don't you go get a haircut? A great gigolo once said to me: 'You can't be a true New Yorker without a makeover'. He was the true voice of wisdom."

A gigolo? There must have been some history there if Rachel's glare was anything to go by.

"Right, Hummel?" Santana continued, looking at someone sitting at the bar.

A back of the Spotlight uniform turned into a front and one of the most beautiful faces Blaine had ever seen. He couldn't stop staring at this pale skin, blue eyes and chestnut hair coiffed like a professional.

He had a big smile on his face as he looked at Santana and raised his thumb up. An outraged Rachel turned to him, as if betrayed, and stomped her foot like a petulant child. Hummel raised his shoulders and hands in a powerless manner. Rachel took her board, wrote on it: _Screw you! All of you! _

Santana burst of laughing.

"Oh my God, watching you two is like watching a Charlie Chaplin movie!"

_I am astonished that you know who Charlie Chaplin was, _Kurt wrote_, and that you bothered to educate yourself enough to watch one of his movies. There may still be hope for you. _

Mercedes quickly filled Blaine in: "Kurt goes to the same school as Rachel and has the same ritual."

So his name was Kurt. It fitted him. He couldn't help but glance at him every so often, he was simply stunning. And he must be as talented as Rachel was.

Mercedes explanation must have alerted everyone's attention as all eyes turned on him.

"Blaine, you already know Sam, so no need for introductions. And this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is the new guy, Blaine, Sam's BFF".

Kurt raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

"Nice to meet you", Blaine said, suddenly nervous.

Kurt nodded, as if to say "likewise".

"Well," Mercedes turned to Blaine, "I believe this is the end of your shift!"

"Not yet!" Sam intervened with a big smile on his face. "No shift, especially a first day's shift is complete without a song!"

He took Blaine's arm and brought him to the piano. The Diner fell silent as they were waiting for a song to begin. Blaine's wasn't nervous. The stage was his home. He took one look at Sam who nodded and put his hands on the keyboard. Showtime.

"_Anthony works in the grocery store, savin' his pennies for someday…_"

He watched the audience swaying and dancing, and glanced at Sam as they harmonized. This was what he liked to do. Singing, playing, dancing, with his friends, with strangers, in New York or anywhere in the world. It made him happy.

He couldn't control his grin as he watched Kurt dancing with Rachel and singing with all the waiters: "_You oughta know right now_".

He was going to love this job, alright.


End file.
